


Speculation on Demisexual Sex Drive

by SayHiDestery



Series: How to: Cultivate a Relationship between Sociopaths [2]
Category: Death Note
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Kira, Smut, implied mello/matt - Freeform, matt died, mello lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 19:43:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6253069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayHiDestery/pseuds/SayHiDestery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For as long as he has understood the word and known the boy, Mello has always considered Near to be asexual.  For most of their youth, Near appeared almost entirely emotionless.  He wasn’t sure if Near was afraid of appearing weak or if he simply didn’t feel anything all, but to him Near appeared to be in a constant state of static emotional numbness.  </p>
<p>He was thirteen when Mello had to admit that he was entirely ignorant to the entire subject of Near’s existence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speculation on Demisexual Sex Drive

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of backstory on Mello and Near's relationship, and a headcanon backstory for Near. Mello gives Near head. Everything is good, Enjoy~

For as long as he has understood the word and known the boy, Mello has always considered Near to be asexual. For most of their youth, Near appeared almost entirely emotionless. He wasn’t sure if Near was afraid of appearing weak or if he simply didn’t feel anything all, but to him Near appeared to be in a constant state of static emotional numbness. His eyes reflected nothing – he only spoke when spoken to – he didn’t reach out to others – he was robotic, as if on some level of subhuman.

He was thirteen when Mello had to admit that he was entirely ignorant to the entire subject of Near’s existence.

It was an exam day. They were being tested on all subjects – on everything they had been taught and were expected to know about those subjects. Mello had a habit of sneaking glances at Near when they were in the same classroom, and he noticed that it took Near almost five minutes before he stopped staring blankly at the exam paper and actually picked up the pencil. He also dropped the pencil – often. Very often. He couldn’t seem to finish an answer without the pencil slipping from his hand. It was odd, to say the least. Then, they had to turn in their exams. They both had seats in the first row, so they were the first to file out to hand in their exams. Mello was a few bodies behind Near, walking with the flow of students exiting down the aisles and to the doors – it was similar to the layout of an auditorium or theatre.

Someone fell, and it disrupted the ebb and flow of students in a hurry to leave and move on with the day. Mello only saw someone tumble into someone else and throw heated glances backwards before their gaze dropped and suddenly, there was a clot of students forming a circle in front of him.

“Hey! Wake up! Near, get up! What the hell is wrong with you? Someone get help!”

Mello pushed his way through until he could see Near had fallen, his eyes only open slits and his ribcage was working a dangerously fast pace. Despite the rivalry they harbored, something about seeing Near on the floor like that just… it didn’t sit right. This was not the enigmatic asshole that had Mello constantly bending over backward to best – this was a small, obviously sick kid who was shaking and wheezing and _yeah,_ maybe Mello had a little bit of a soft spot for him.

Apparently Mr. Perfect had been skipping meals – a _lot_ of meals – and fainted from fatigue in the midst of a panic attack. This quickly lead to the discovery that Near was anemic and had PTSD – from what, they didn’t know. He didn’t talk about it. What they _did_ know is that when the nurse rolled up his pant leg to test his reflexes, Mello didn’t even _see_ the other move until the nurse was on the ground clutching her stomach. Near had shoved his pant leg back down and cowered with his hands over his ears. But that episode definitely showed a more human side of Near that _no one_ had seen yet. Mello eased up after that, and mysteriously managed to always be there when Near had an attack of some sort.

It should be to no surprise that they found domestic comfort in each other. While Matt offered Mello the sex and the friendship, there was no love – of the romantic kind, anyway. Matt loved his best friend dearly, but not in the way Mello wanted ( _needed._ )

When Kira was defeated, L’s title was shared between the two of them. Mello took up an apartment not far from the SPK headquarters. It was sooner than later that Near found himself spending more and more time in that apartment. From there, Mello had the sole privilege of discovering all the little things about Near: he was _not_ a morning person, a bit of a neat freak, relied a bit too heavily on coffee, often fell asleep in weird places, and, best of all, definitely had a sex drive of some kind.

It was a surprise to the both of them, it seemed. Mello was coming home with groceries and Near had fallen asleep while sitting on the couch like a normal person, paperwork loosely held between fingers on his lap. Their relationship hadn’t reached anywhere past flirtatious touches and morning kissing – Mello was all too aware of the PTSD that he still didn’t know very much about.

He _was_ going to wake him up and demand that he set aside the work for a minute – it didn’t look that important anyways – and help with groceries. But that isn’t what happened, not when he noticed the flush on his kinda-sorta-boyfriend’s cheeks and the very slight tent in his pants that the papers nearly hid completely.

_Oh._ It was as he was hovering over Near, trying to decide how to wake him and how he was feeling about this whole ordeal, that Near let out a very soft pant… and then another… and then it was a _whimper_ and suddenly Mello’s pants felt a little tight. Near finally opened his eyes and was startled by Mello looming over him with a conflicted look on his face. When Near became aware of the aching between his legs, he was very quick to stand and try to excuse himself to the bathroom with that polite, shy voice he took on whenever things between them got even a bit heated. It was something he reverted to – a security blanket – and Mello was sure it came from the PTSD. He didn’t let Near go to the bathroom. No, instead he kissed him a bit harder than he meant to and – groceries be damned – showed Near what Cloud Nine felt like. He was rather proud of himself, actually, for finding the right balance between gentle and sexy to give his little boyfriend an orgasm that sated him for hours afterwards. When it was done and Mello held him, he took silent pride in the way Near now entirely pressed himself up against Mello and the way his thighs still trembled a little. He didn’t ask for reciprocation – he took care of that himself – and instead took a different kind of pleasure in getting to watch Near rock through the aftershocks and settle into a state of relaxation that Mello was sure he’d never reached before.

After that, their sex life became… normal. Near did in fact have a sex drive and enjoyed sex with Mello. They’d work hard all week and spend a good portion of their weekends in bed together. Near didn’t mind being a bottom and Mello rather liked the view he got from topping. That didn’t mean that Mello didn’t like riding Near from time to time – he certainly did – but having control of the pace and the feeling of the spasming of Near’s thighs along the length of his body was thrilling, just as it was to watch the normally eloquent and sensible boy shrivel into senseless noises and words and the occasional begging – _that_ was quite the sight (not to mention the ego ride.)

However, there was one thing that Near did not allow: Mello wasn’t allowed to give him head. It hadn’t really come to Mello’s attention until lately, because normally when Near gave him head it was late and the orgasm exhausted him. Near never asked for compensation and never complained about being left horny. More often than not, he offered to give Mello head and it was normally when Mello was suffering through a particularly tough case. Near did a good job of concealing his struggling, but sometimes even he couldn’t keep up with appearances.

They were both working exceptionally hard cases, and for the past three nights, Near had rewarded Mello for his hard work with sexual gratification, but didn’t go to bed with him. Instead, he’d leave Mello to the bed and go back to their shared study. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Near wasn’t waking up with him either. Mello would wake up to an empty bed. He had, for some reason, assumed that Near was getting himself off and sleeping at different intervals. That was, until he finished his own case and came to his senses. Near didn’t masturbate – Mello knew this. So, Near had not only not been getting off, but had been getting Mello off at purposefully late hours to avoid Mello trying to reciprocate. Sneaky.

After a sleep that bordered on fourteen hours and a _really_ long shower, Mello was all perked up and found his boyfriend sleeping at his desk. Perfect. He swept in, dipping down to kiss along the back of his neck, hands sliding down his thighs and back up. Near’s shoulders jolted and then relaxed, a very low hum resting in the back of his throat.

“Hi,” Near croaked lamely, voice cracking from lack of use. Mello found it endearing.

“Hi,” Mello returned, kissing behind his ear and then back down until he reached the top of his spine.

Near sat up, pulling away from Mello’s affection, “I should get back to work. I didn’t mean to sleep.” He supplied lamely, powering on his laptop.

“I finished my case,” Mello said, still lavishing parts of Near’s neck that he could reach.

“Mello, I really need – that’s great, I’m happy you can relax now, but I really need to -,”

Mello closed the laptop and pushed it back, “Whatever you’re working on can wait until tomorrow. Someone hasn't been sleeping,” he said in a low voice, bordering on accusatory.

Near huffed, “No, I just haven’t been sleeping for long periods of-,”

“Or eating.”

“I don’t have time to-,”

“I’m not asking for an explanation. I’ve also noticed that you’ve been taking care of _my_ needs and not your own.” Mello let his thumb dip under the waistband of Near’s preferred scrubs, letting his nail draw a line from one hip bone to the other. He didn’t miss the shiver it earned him.

“Mello, I’m _fine_ without-,”

“I didn’t _ask_ you if you were fine, Near. What I’m _telling_ you if that my case is done and now it’s your turn to be taken care of. That’s sort of how a relationship works, idiot.” Mello said, finally pulling back from his neck and spinning Near around in his chair. He was already flushed – what a little liar.

Near looked like he was bordering on exasperation as he said, “I _really_ don’t have the time to do this, Mello.”

Mello gave him a disbelieving look. “If you have the time to give head, you have the time to get it, too.” He smiled cheekily.

Near flushed deeper, never the one for dirty talk unless he was _really_ into it which he, currently, was not. He opened his mouth to argue, and was promptly interrupted by a kiss that skipped all formality and nearly swallowed him whole. Mello knew Near had a secret appreciation for Mello’s rough, to-the-point attitude when it came to sex. Not that he skipped foreplay, but often Mello held little tolerance for Near’s excuses when it came to his own needs and Mello was fairly good at shutting him up. This was one of those times.

Mello had already worked off Near’s shirt when they fell onto the bed together. It appeared that Near’s exhaustion was stifling most of his fight, as it was never this easy to get Near into bed when he was in the middle of a case. That is, until Mello’s hand tried to go down his pants. Near caught Mello’s wrist like he was stealing something, but they both seemed surprised by the action. Near was not shy, never had been, until it came to sex – not even then, because Mello’s body did not embarrass him and talking about sex did not get him worked up, but instead it was his own body and its reactions that made him feel unattractive and awkward.

“What’s wrong?” Mello asked, his hand still dancing around Near’s waist, but making no further attempt to go beneath the waistband. Near’s hand rested back on the bed and Mello just watched him, watched those dark eyes think while his hand choreographed the subtle spasming of Near’s abdominal muscles – he’d never admit to being ticklish.

Near was quick to assure Mello, “I trust you.”

“I know you do. We wouldn’t be here if you didn’t,” he reasoned, his hand never stilling and his eyes still watching.

White hair fluttered a bit away from his forehead with the force of his sigh, and Mello could feel the slight tremble of that sigh in his belly, “The idea of receiving slightly terrifies me.”

“Why?”

Near isn’t meeting his eyes anymore, offering a half-hearted shrug.

Mello narrowed his eyes, rejecting the answer, “Is it because of whoever it was that hurt you? Before Wammy’s?”

Near looks like he’s about to start shaking his head, but stops himself and sighs again, “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“You really should give me a name,” Mello insists, leaning up to nibble a milky, white neck that was even more exposed now.

Near scoffs, but tilts his head to offer better access, “If I give you a name, you’ll kill him.”

“Ah, you said _him_.”

“You already knew it was a boy.”

“Yeah, but you just confirmed it. And if you don’t want me killing him, I still have underground connections.” Mello offered, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Near hummed, “We both know you wouldn’t hire anyone. You’d want to do it yourself.”

Mello chuckled, “It’s cute how well you know me.” Then, they kiss, and kiss a bit longer, and Mello almost forgets the conversation they were having. Almost. “What terrifies you about getting head? It feels good, I promise.”

Oh, boy does that make Near blush, “That… that isn’t the concern. It’s more the… attention. When we have sex, you’re getting direct pleasure out of it. With this, all of your attention is on me.”

It clicked. “You feel vulnerable.”

“I feel naked.”

Mello snickered, “This isn’t the first or last time you’ll be naked in front of me.”

Near shook his head, “I didn’t mean physically.”

Mello gave a slow, deliberate nod of his head, his fingers now dancing along a soft, bony chest, “I see. You don’t like the idea of having my undivided attention on the pleasure of your body.”

Near nods slowly.

Mello hums, “Then, that’s something we need to work on. I’ll go slow – if you really can’t stand it, I’ll stop. But we have to get you passed this sooner or later, and you’re already tired now. At least _you_ don’t have your full attention on this, right?” He can already see Near bristling, so he kisses him long and slow, coaxing his muscles to relax, “Just trust me, okay? I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

“…Okay.”

As promised, he starts slow. He’s hunched over the smaller boy whose legs dangle awkwardly in the air on either side of his body. They kiss deeply and slowly, tasting each other with practiced pace. Near twirls some of Mello’s hair and Mello goes even slower, recognizing the nervous habit. He grinds into him, trying to stir that pent up restlessness that he knows is buried somewhere in that little body. It doesn’t take him long to start getting sounds. It always starts with little gasps, whether from a spike of heat or a motion Near wasn’t anticipating. Hissing follows the gasping, often when Near is riding out a particularly long wave and is usually accompanied by his hips seeking out that angle again.

By the times the gasps have evolved to moans, Mello is already inching down the waistband of Near’s pants, lovingly stroking the prominent hipbones and leaving love bites in the extenuated dips those bones leave. When the pants are gone and Near is left in nothing but socks and boxer briefs with little robots on them (a pair that Mello brought home for him after a weekend spent in New York with Matt,) Mello sees the fear. It’s slight and hard to sense, but Mello can see it in the way Near’s legs gravitate back together and the nervous fingering of their duvet cover. Mello lays himself back between those legs, already feeling their shake, and kisses the nervous boy. It’s reminiscent of the first time they slept together – a nightmare Mello won’t soon forget. It had ended fine, but the fear of hurting or scaring Near or fucking up his first time and turning him away from sex forever had been stifling to the point of suffocating.

The pants were off – that was a good sign. Mello would hold off on the boxers and instead lavish Near in kisses, bites, and caresses. Near’s obvious erection didn’t look like it was softening anytime soon. He had to keep the foreplay extensive and distracting, holding Near’s limited attention so that all he could think about was what he was feeling. He rocked into Near, letting their erections brush in a way that made Near’s back arch off the bed and his hips rise to meet Mello’s. All good signs that were rewarded in deep kisses and distracted massaging.

Mello was tasting all along the underside of Near’s jaw when he started to slide down the boxers. Near’s legs hugged him tighter, trying to close, so he left the boxers low on his hips and reached between them to rub the palm of his hand along the clothed underside of his erection, the action nearly drawing Near off the bed like he was attached to Mello’s fingers by string. The image of Near spread out on their bed, tied to the posts and completely at Mello’s mercy was a nice one that made Mello rock into Near a bit harder.

He made his way down the lithe chest, tasting and touching familiar places that he knew drew the best of reactions from his lover. The sounds he made were music, the kind of music that made him warm inside in a way he would never, _ever_ admit aloud, but most of their relationship was built on understanding, mutual silence. They loved without the need for words, like they spoke a language all their own where words weren’t necessary.

Mello held both of Near’s hands when he took the elastic of the boxers between his teeth and dragged them down slim legs that were trying very hard to stay still. He threw the boxers away, letting them fall with the rest of Near’s clothes, so he was left with a white, completely naked body spread before him on the charcoal of their duvet. Near didn’t emit sexiness as much as he did a very primal attraction, one that drew out a predatory hunger in Mello that he could not resist. He crawled up the pale body until he could bite swollen lips and kiss his lover dizzy. When he did, he slid back down the shivering body until he could kiss the inside of his knees and down pale, almost translucent thighs to the junction of his leg and hip. Near was overall very hairless, with only small, soft patches of hair on his arms and legs, virtually none on his stomach or thighs. Here, he had a very small tuft of snow white, coarse pubic hair. It left most of Near’s sensitive skin even more heightened to sensation. Mello took advantage of that.

He started pumping Near with his hand while he kissed and licked everywhere else that was new to his mouth. He hooked Near’s legs over his shoulders so he could wrap his arms around his thighs and hold his hips still, kissing down the underside of his erection before giving a long lick back up that brought Near’s back off the bed and dug his heels into Mello’s ribs. _That_ is what he wanted. Those long, guttural moans that came from somewhere basic and raw, with those desperate and jittery moans that only made Mello want to draw everything out longer.

He finally took the head into his mouth and Near was trying hard to stifle the sounds coming out of his mouth, but Mello was having none of it. Not caring if Near accidentally choked him, Mello let go of his hips so he could reach up and take both of Near’s hands.

“Nope, you aren’t hiding from me, cotton ball.” Mello sighed, holding both of Near’s wrists across his thighs to both keep his hips in place and so Near couldn’t hide his noises.

“But, bu…ah, ah, _fuck,_ ” Near rarely cursed, and a majority of his cursing happened in the bedroom.

Mello might have scoffed if he wasn’t getting so into it. Receiving head was very much a submissive position when it came to the both of them. There was no face-fucking or choking or hair-pulling. It was always backs arching off the bed and hips that couldn’t keep still and secret smiles that were stuffed with cock but enjoying every second of it. Mello had a front row seat to Near’s quick descent into trembling thighs, short breaths, and, _yes,_ the begging of _please, please, oh god, keep going, please, let me come, let me come, fucking, god, please,_ until the begging was no longer coherent. Mello enjoyed feeling Near struggle to have his hands back, to try to push him up and off so he wouldn’t come in Mello’s mouth, but Mello knew Near’s o-face when he saw it. He let go of Near’s hands just so he could properly hold his hips and push the pace faster, jumping a little when he felt Near’s hand comb through his hair. Bold, but not unpleasant.

Near came like a freight train, his legs locking around Mello’s head and his nails digging into Mello’s scalp and his voice rising so loud he was just short of yelling. He came twice, because apparently Mello rather liked how he tasted and didn’t stop sucking when Near’s legs dropped, boneless and sated. The second time he came was just as hard but with a loud whimper that could have been confused with a sob and the restless shifting of his hips. When he was dry, Mello pulled off with a long drag that made Near whimper again and raised goosebumps over his entire body. Despite feeling completely liquidated, his body was a flurry of shaking and spasming that brought soft noises and Mello couldn’t get over how _cute_ Near was like this.

“Good?” Mello asked with a teasing smile, bringing himself up beside Near so he could hold him.

“Really… really good,” Near agreed in a breathless whisper, shivering in his arms. Mello kicked off his pants and shirt and brought the duvet over them both, reaching over Near to pull his heated blanket over him and feeling out the controller for it. “You’re… really… really good to me.” Near mumbled, his trembling making the words a bit harder to understand.

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty good to me, too. That’s why we work.”

Near hummed an affirmative, already nearly asleep cradled against Mello’s chest, “Mm… I feel like now would be an appropriate time to say I love you,” he contemplated aloud, looking up at Mello for a reaction.

Despite it being the first time either of them had said it, Mello didn’t react too strongly to it; they said _I love you_ in more ways than words. But when you’re a pair of orphan boys with big egos and even bigger insecurities, words sometimes offered more comfort than they should – like now.

Mello rested his chin on Near’s head and sighed, “Yeah, I love you too.”

The room was still and they were both spent, content to sleep like new lovers wound up in each other’s arms and legs with no fronts to hold up or shame to conform to. All that was left was the chill settling on their skin that they chased away in each other’s embrace and the mutual love they hadn’t realized they’d been searching all their lives for, only to find it in the arms of the once-enemy. Words didn’t always explain them.

But in times like this, they didn’t need them. 


End file.
